


Dehydrated

by the_wildcard



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: (Mac n den get high), M/M, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:16:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9996506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wildcard/pseuds/the_wildcard
Summary: For a second, with the flame illuminating Dennis' skin, Mac believes he looks to be holy. But regular lighting returns. Mac sighs, "I'm too high."





	

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of mac coming out, i wrote macdennis, the only thing i know how to write. Enjoy.

The warm daze that weed brings with it has overcome Mac, almost suffocatingly so. His body feels like lead, pulling him down into the couch cushion, even lower than that. Mac is below the floor, hes lower than the dirt.

The front door swings open, to reveal Dee and Dennis. Their hair is wild, windblown. Mac notes that they're each wearing the same shade of foundation. He wishes he was close enough to Dennis to see if he was wearing that pretty black mascara today. 

He daydreams that he could grab Dennis by the front of his shirt and kiss him with open lips. He imagines that he could tell Dennis how he feels about him. He wishes there was a way to articulate his emotions without sounding like a stuttering bitch. He wants to tell Dennis that he's beautiful. 

"Ayoo," is, instead, what he settles on so eloquently saying. Dennis doesn't respond as he makes his way to the kitchen fridge and grabs himself and Dee a beer. He tosses her the bottle with no heads up, causing it to land near where shes standing. 

The glass shattering cuts through the silence violently. Dee doesn't acknowledge it. 

"Have you been smoking weed, Mac?"  
Dee sounds pissed. Last time she caught him smoking in her apartment, she threw a fit. She also threw her toaster at Mac's head, which he just barely dodged. He decides to lie. 

"Nah, Dee. Nah." 

They lock eyes for a few seconds, as if challenging each other. But of course if its a test of wits, Dee will always win over Mac. This is proved when a dopey grin spreads over his face. 

Dee groans and throws her hands in the air. Dennis is reading a magazine at the table, unperturbed. 

"You have to stop smoking here Mac. If the cops are called I'm gonna be the one getting taken in for it!" Mac rubs his eyes and adjusts himself on the couch. He knows she's just jealous that he never shares his supply with her. Not even when they were in highschool. 

He racks his brain for a clever retort but the drugs made him stupider than he already is. His mind is blank. A white sheet of paper, no hint of being written on.

"Shut up, bird." 

Dee stomps her foot. Glass crunches under her sneakers. Dennis looks up in time to see her reach down to pick up shards of the wet glass. 

She pegs it at Mac, though they're only a few feet apart. He quickly braces himself, squeezing his dry eyes closed. When the glass has bounced off Mac's torso, leaving him unperturbed, she goes to her bedroom and slams the door behind her. 

Picture frames rattle on the wall. 

Dennis continues to read, Mac wipes glass from the couch cushion. It's a usual Thursday night. 

"Any weed left?" It takes Mac a moment to realize Dennis has spoken to him. He nods excitedly. 

The cigarette pack in his back pocket has one blunt left and Mac tries to make a mental note to buy more from The Bridge People tomorrow. He twirls the thing in between his fingers nervously, thanking God that Dennis comes to the couch. Mac doesn't think he could stand.

Dennis takes the weed from Mac, and then reaches into Mac's front pants pocket to take his lighter. He has to try the lighter three times before fire actually ignites. For a second, with the flame illuminating Dennis' skin, Mac believes he looks to be holy. But regular lighting returns. 

Mac sighs, "I'm too high." 

Dennis rebuttles by handing him the blunt. Mac takes it with no hesitation and has a long hit, letting the sour smoke rest in his poor lungs. 

 

However much longer later, Mac's leaning against Dennis, staring at Dee's ceiling. Dennis' arm around his shoulder is a comfort. A security blanket. 

They sit in silence for a long time. Or maybe it was only a couple of minutes. Regardless, Dennis asks quietly, "what did you do today?"

The question has been on the tip of his tongue all afternoon and he was waiting for a casual way to ask it. Mac wasn't at work, a habit he has acquired after coming to terms with being gay.

"Met this guy last night. Real stallion." Mac doesn't care that his heart is hammering in his chest. That his brain is throbbing like a bell thats tolling. 

Dennis' eyes are fixed on the TV's blank, black screen. Their reflections are the only thing he can make out on the monitor. 

"I meant to come into work, sorry." Dennis doesn't say anything. If he did, he knows his anger would overcome him and it would be another night, ending in fighting. 

"Hey, Den. I had a dream about you again last night." 

Dennis cuts him off by standing, pushing Mac away from himself in the process. "I don't care," It's almost a whisper, but Mac knows exactly what he says. 

"Alright, dude." Mac's tone has turned bitter. "Calm the fuck down." 

Dennis laughs and claps his hands. "You're telling me to calm down?" His voice has risen to a shout.   
"You're the one who's been gallivanting around, having sex with whichever guy gives you a second glance."

Mac's face screws up in disgust. "You've been doing the same thing to women for years." 

Dennis scoffs. "Thats not- that isn't the same thing." 

"What are you, Den? Jealous?"

"Jealous? Of you! Please," Dennis throws his hands in the air. 

Something is thrown against Dee's bedroom door. She's signaling for them to shut up. 

Dennis slightly lowers his voice and continues. "If anyone is jealous of anyone, you are of me. Come on, Mac. You watched my sex tapes for years." 

Slowly, Mac rises from the couch. "Frank told me about your erotic nightmares."

"Fuck you, Dennis."

They're only a foot apart, but Mac has never felt so distant from him. 

"And he told me all the details." Dennis takes a deliberate step forward. Mac wills himself not to take two steps back. He isn't afraid of this man. 

Dennis outstretches his arms to grab both sides of Mac's face, thumbs right at the base of his ears. Theyre only a step away from eachother, to solve this problem, Dennis pulls Mac towards him by the head.

Mac stumbles forward. Their chests are only inches away. "You dreamt of me dancing, of all things." His voice is gravelly and Mac feels like a fly caught in a spiders web. He's going to be devoured. He's going to be killed. 

"How many times have you fantasized about kissing me, Mac?" It's a rhetorical question, Mac knows, because he isn't given enough time to answer before Dennis presses their lips together. 

Each of their mouths are dry, a side effect of the drugs. They kiss like they're dehydrated. 

 

The next week is Valentines day. Mac decides to get Dennis something, for the first time.


End file.
